DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID |
PROFILE | GUESTBOOK | OLD | OLDER | OLDEST |
I'm very glad that I happened to click on Dharmaqueen's diary tonight. She has a lovely sentiment about fear, and fear is something I have had to play with today. Stupid fear, really. I wrote the first chapter of my NaNoWriMo novel today. First off, I'm a few thousand words behind where I should be by now. I don't care. I'm having such fun writing the stupid thing, I'm not going to get too carried away with word counts and such. The thing that scared me, was, I had based my main character on a composit of the guys I hang with on what used to be the Showtime "Queer As Folk" message board (we moved to a better site, and left the old board as a virtual ghost town). At any rate, I told the guys what I had done in their names, and I gave them the link to the novel in progress... You know, I really shouldn't be fearful of them - or anyone, reading the thing. I mean, I write stuff in my diary that I probably wouldn't tell anyone in real life - and you read it. And I only know these guys via the written word. I've never seen one face to face. It's just that what I write here, and what I write to them is my commentary on real life stuff. The novel is my "creation". As if I painted a them picture, or made them an ashtray out of clay or something - and what if they hate it, or it sucks... (Plus, you know, they're all really good writers of hot man-on-man sexcapades. I know. I've read it). I'm rambling, but this brings back a lot of memories and uncomfortable feelings for me. I keep recallling my second year in college, when I developed this panic disorder thing. I was a music major. I sang. My whole life, I sang, and I was always accepted into any vocal group for which I tried out. Never a question. I loved to perform! Then, all of a sudden, in the middle of my second year in college - I started to panic. I started to believe that I couldn't sing. I started to dread going on stage, or even rehearsing with the group. We went on tour during the summer, and I never sang a note the entire time. I just moved my lips!!! From that time until very recently, I would not sing for anyone. Now, thanks to Beta Blockers, I drive my neighbors crazy, screeching along to my CD's, while I wash dishes, or clean the apartment. Knowing those guys are going to see my stupid "novel" (and it's bound to be stupid. I'm not a novelist, and even if I was - it's supposed to be finished in a month), well, it brought back a whole lot of anxious memories and feelings. Like Dharmaqueen asks. What would you do if you weren't afraid? I'll bet I would do a lot of things... |
Buh Bye! October 05, 2008 Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid One Last Bitchfest for the Road Get the Popcorn Ready I'm a Rich Ho-Bag |
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Marriage is love. |